Innocence lost: A new change of lifestyle
by SparkieSchteff
Summary: The air is frosty and the roads are icy but that doesn't stop the white van from speeding away changing a young lifestyle forever. 'T' for violence and swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**So I originally posted this on my Livejournal but the LJ Cuts are doing my head in so much and I can't be bothered to constantly battle with it anymore so this is being shifted to over here, it's a kidnapping fiction and there will be violence and swearing so be warned if you're picky about those kind of things...  
Disclaimer: I don't own and never shall! **

It was broad daylight, the sun was shining down on the houses and the streets but it was still chilly out, breath could be seen in clouds in front of the faces of shoppers clutching at their bags with gloved hands. Scarves were everywhere, around everyone's necks keeping the icy bite out. Shops were selling them at half price as a bargain, most were snatched up within minutes, the weather was insanely cold but the sun deceived everyone making it seem lovely and warm.

Cars were moving slowly down the roads for fear of black ice, men in fluorescent jackets were laying grit to give the tyres a better chance at staying on the road and not careering off into the window of Primark or Subway. Little children all bundled up waddled happily down the streets being followed by their parents or grand parents, one girl's scarf was trailing along behind her on the floor until her mother caught up and tucked it round her neck and into her little puffy coat.

It was a glorious day to share with someone, a coffee or hot chocolate in Starbucks seemed a very popular idea among the shoppers but hardly anyone in there was sat alone, they were all grouped together gripping their steaming mugs with hands red from the cold.

A young man strolled down the street squinting in the sunlight, his hands stuck in his pockets because he still needed to buy some gloves from Topshop. A pair of ear muffs sat neatly on his head with his hair styled perfectly around them keeping out the bite, he longed to wrap his arms around his chest but his hands seemed to protest from being moved from the warmth of the pockets on his body warmer. Another item on his shopping list was a warm coat that was still fashionable and definitely in season, maybe something with a faux fur lining in the hood. Did he want a hood? He wasn't so sure. It would definitely be handy if it ever snowed or rained or worse, hailed but then again he wasn't sure if he wanted a hat. He had seen a lovely one in H&M, the price was verging on the brink of ridiculous but it was the height of fashion after all.

He stood at the crossing watching the cars pass at a snails pace, he stamped his feet trying to get some warmth back into them and then mentally added some fur lined boots to his shopping list before crossing the road after the green man had flashed up. As he reached the kerb he nearly lost his footing from a patch of black ice, a hand shot out and gripped the frostbitten railing by his side to regain his balance. He stopped for a second almost getting knocked down by a large pram being steered by a very stressed mother, he smiled at her and apologised and hurried on out of her way.

Trying to get away from the hustle and bustle of the insanely packed street he turned a sharp left and strolled down an alley, puddles of water had frozen overnight and were beginning to slowly defrost and melt in the winter sun. He was tempted to splash through a few and hear the satisfying crunch of the ice but his boots were new and not too waterproof and his toes were already numb and probably turning blue so he left the icy patches behind.

Cupping his hands in front of his face he quickly blew into them and stamped his feet again feeling a little more than frustrated with the cold, in his mind he imagined a nice cup of hot chocolate steaming away on the table covered in cream, marshmallows and chocolate sprinkles. He smiled slightly at the thought of it and began his walk again now with his hands pushed firmly in his pockets.

As one foot was put in front of the other a sudden force was clamped over his mouth as a large leather clad arm snaked around his waist, his back was pressed up against someone's front and a chin rested on his shoulder. The arm across his stomach tightened squeezing the breath from his lungs as a shudderingly cold voice whispered in his ear to keep quiet, the young man's brow creased as he tried to struggle from being dragged backwards, a small muffled noise tried to break through the large hand over his lips as he felt the heels of his new boots being scrapped along the gravel floor.

Soon he found himself sat on a set of knees on the edge of a van floor almost being cradled roughly like a small child or baby. The snap of duct tape echoed near his ear as the person he was sat on slapped a piece over the young man's mouth then proceeded to tape together his wrists, now the young man could see the person in front of him as he was pushed onto the van floor, he kicked his legs out trying to catch the brute off guard but he had lightning fast reactions. The man caught one of his ankles and squeezed with a vice like grip feeling like he could snap the bone, it was a threat enough as the tape was continuously bound around his frozen wrists. The ridiculously strong man tore off the tape and hurriedly tied the young man's ankles together, another muffled cry came from his mouth as he watched the tape being tacked down onto his new boots, now he really would need new ones so he added them to a mental list too.

With a frown still on his face and his hands still red from the cold he was pushed backwards into the van with a heavy thud then plunged into darkness as the doors were slammed shut and the engine roared up. Rough angry cockney voices could be heard behind the young man's head as the van rumbled and vibrated away down the alley, quickly he shuffled himself around and repeatedly slammed his heavy boots into the wall of the vehicle desperate for any form of attention, he would kick through them if he had the strength. Loud music could be heard from the front of the van so he kicked harder and harder until his legs felt tired and weak.

Listening to insane thumping of some heavy drum and bass he shuffled along the floor dragging his body-warmer and white jeans across the dirty wooden surface until his head hit a wall of the van, he struggled to sit up then peeled the tape off his mouth with a quick sharp snap. He had no time to mutter in pain, instead he screamed for help and repeatedly banged against the wall again until his hands felt purple with bruises.

The van jerked to a stop sending him off balance and crashing to the floor of the vehicle, a door was slammed then the back one was launched open flooding the inside with bright daylight. Another man stood there, a skinnier one who looked weaker and more pissed off than the other had. In his hand he held a gun at the young man who balanced himself on his knees glaring at his kidnapper, nothing was said between the two as he sat down against the van wall while the door was slammed and the engine roared up once more.

The young man bit his lip in thought then glanced down casually at his skinny jeans that were covered in patches of dirt and oil then mentally added more and more items to his shopping list.


	2. Chapter 2

**Awh thank you for the positive reviews :) Yeah you all got the character right though I wasn't disguising the fact it's Vince, just didn't want to use any Identities to start with :)**

**Anyway, disclaimer: I don't own at all, only merch :)  
Enjoy!**

-

He didn't know how long he'd been asleep for but the vehicle had stopped shaking and the smell of petrol was long gone by the time he struggled to sit up. His right arm was numb from his body pressing against it for too long, he shook it trying to get the blood flowing again. Shivers wracked his body, the temperature drop had startled him awake but now the silence scared him a little. There were no more cockney voices and no music, only the distant sound of wind howling through a door, well that's what he thought anyway. Maybe it was a window? He didn't care, he lay down quickly and using his hand that wasn't numb was able to pull his phone from his tight jeans, now that he was calmer his brain was thinking properly and orderly. Thankfully he had charged it the night before and since he wasn't in a typical Soap where the mobiles always died in emergencies he was fine, without thinking of who to call, he didn't need to think about it really , he dialled the number for the shop because he knew Howard would be there probably listening to some moody Jazz records.

Each time the dialling tone sounded in his ear his heart thumped a little faster, he found himself biting his lip and urging someone to answer the phone under his breath, the phone was pressed awkwardly between his ear and his shoulder since his hands were too tightly bound to hold it properly. When the familiar northern 'hello', Nabootique how can I help you?' rung through his skull his heart seemed to stop and his throat choked up. He swallowed hard, his mouth completely dry and his mind lost for words, his friend's name wouldn't even form on his tongue and roll of, all he could do was breathe down the phone while he gathered his thoughts.

"Hello? Is there anyone there?" The voice echoed from the tiny speaker above the small screen, "Look, I haven't got time for childish pranks." A sudden squeak left the young man's voice at the thought of being cut off, just hearing his best friend's voice was enough to calm him slightly, "Hello?"

"You need to help me I've been kidnapped!" He finally managed to blurt out in a higher pitched voice than usual, "Please don't hang up on me, please!" He begged breaking into a whisper almost close to sobs, he didn't know where he was so how could his friend possibly help? All he knew was he was in a van in the dark with his legs and hands tied up and that he could hear voices.

"Listen to me, you need to calm down and hang up. Hide your phone in your pocket and phone me again when you get the next chance, do you understand?" He frantically muttered he did and stuffed the phone in his pocket forgetting to cut the call off, the voices got louder and louder until a soft click echoed from the door of the van. Light flooded the area he was sat in panting balancing on his sore knees, he tried shuffling back but was grabbed and pulled to his feet in what looked like a garage, the smell of paint was extremely strong as was the stench of petrol. By a door he noticed a few red and green plastic containers that resembled watering cans, a substance far from water settled inside them all. The lighting cast a yellow glow over the room, there was dirty and torn carpet beneath his boots and a various number of tools lying around along with some rope, ladders and even a washing machine and mountain bike.

Being pushed through a door he nearly stumbled and fell onto a checkered kitchen floor, the room stunk of old food and dirty pots and pans lay about the tables and in the sink, he waited for a pair of hands tog rasp his shoulders again but no pressure came, he dared a look back at the men who were glaring at him then at each other.

"You said 'e was a woman!" The thinner man yelled pounding a fist against a kitchen counter making the young man jump, the tougher man protested back that he couldn't tell the difference while the hostage stood shaking from the cold watching them.

"Does it matter? We got 'im now, let's just get the job done!"

"The boss ain't gonna be 'appy about this. He don't want another bloke!" The young man's brow creased as he was pushed brutally into another room that was lined with fluffy carpet, the rooms were painted in a beige colour and the stench of coffee and whiskey was strong in the air, another man who looked in between the thin and the big man sat in an arm chair smoking a cigarette and sipping from a small glass in his hand.

"What is this? That is not the right person." He pointed at the hostage on the floor who glared up through his fringe at the strange man with a sort of pointed face and a five o'clock shadow sketched across his mouth and chin. The air was filled with a rambling discussion about him kneeling his dirty jeans on the white carpet, the volumes rose and lowered until finally he was pulled by force into another room, a small room which housed one bed and four other people. The young man was pushed against a wall, his head connecting with the plaster and bouncing back off it, he slumped dizzily to the floor by a woman who looked at least five years older than he did and had black shadows under her sunken eyes.

"What's your name, kid?" The big cockney man asked before slamming the door and locking it behind him, the young man didn't want to answer and just bit his tongue until he drew blood but the man was in no way a patient being and kicked him hard on the nearest shin until his name spilt from his tongue and into the tense air.

"Vince Noir!" He spat after the door hitting the carpet, the room fell silent and all eyes fell on him as he bit at the tape around his wrists trying desperately to prise it off and rub his sore skin underneath.

"Don't, love. You'll only make it worse." The woman next to him warned him but he didn't listen, he bit harder mixing blood and the sticky tape together. He kicked his feet out trying to pull them apart but had no such look, the hostages all waited until he finally settled down and gave up letting his thumping head rest back on the wall.

"What's going on?" He asked plainly, "Why am I here? Why are any of us here?"

"_You _aren't supposed to be here. Our colleague Lisa was, they must have got the wrong person." One man offered making the young man want to scream out in a sarcastic voice 'Oh really? You think?' but again he bit his tongue clamping it between his teeth.

"We all work at one of the big banks in Dalston." The woman next to him offered, "They're holding us captive for a big sum of money. They've posted a letter to our boss asking for the money in return for us." Vince Noir watched the woman as she spoke, he watched them all, all their eyes were either on the floor or on the woman. One girl, possibly younger than himself had been crying, he could tell from the mascara tracks down her cheeks. He shuddered again, the room was freezing still like the outside air and as he panted he saw his breath in clouds and as he calmed down he saw one image in his head. His phone.

In no time at all he was babbling away directions being whispered at him by the other hostages who had seen where they had been taken, the young girl remained silent and shaking in the corner duct taped to a radiator that clearly wasn't in use and probably never had been.

"Please you need to hurry!" His voice rose in pitch and in volume, "There's other people being held hostage here with me,"They have guns!" There was a soft click at the door as the other hostages held their breath, "Just get the police!" The door flew open and the large cockney man stormed in throwing the phone away from Vince Noir and cracking the side of his cheek with something cold and heavy, something metal, something deadly. The sleeve of his top was tugged at to breaking point as he was dragged from the room screaming at the mobile phone that was lay on the carpet shouting to itself, the brute hurried back, pressed a heavy boot to the mobile and silence the voice on the other end before slamming and locking the door.


End file.
